


Starry Night

by BleuMorpho



Series: Fantastic Beasts - Selkie AU [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, Pirate AU, Selkie AU, Then fluff, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2019-01-08 19:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12260544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleuMorpho/pseuds/BleuMorpho
Summary: Rescued Selkie Credence begins to worry that Newt's heart might already belong to another, and with encouragement from the voice of the sea, decides to take action.A short sequel to "Empty Hearts on Open Oceans".





	Starry Night

 

Despite the trust he was willing to put in Newt’s goodness, it was a long time before Credence shed his seal skin and walked on two legs again.

 

After the MACUSA and its crew were lost in the storm of Credence’s rage, the two of them roamed the open sea for almost five months along the American coast. An average day on the sailboat was divided between Newt tending to his creatures while the anchor was lowered, writing in his manuscript while basking in the sun, and serenading Credence with stories from his adventures around the world. The Selkie, meanwhile, kept mostly to himself, preferring to lay at the bow of the boat and out of the way. His magical control over the weather kept their journey relatively calm and uneventful, and he only ever released the storm inside his soul once Newt had safely made port and taken shelter in a Human hotel on land.

 

The longer they sailed, the more time Credence spent safely within his seal form, the more comfortable he became in the magizoologist’s presence. Not once did Newt ever question his decision to keep his pelt on, nor did he ever attempt to suggest he take it off. Instead, the Selkie was treated like an honored guest, being offered company and food with seemingly no strings attached and a cheerful smile day after day.

 

The first month was spent suspiciously waiting for Newt to turn on him, to grow tired of the charade and rip his pelt off of his very skeleton as soon as he let his guard down. The next two saw a slow, hesitant relaxation as the trust gradually overshadowed the fear. By the beginning of the fourth month, Credence found that he could sleep soundly without needing to worry about being attacked in the night. And finally, as the winds began to chill and the summer began to fade, the Selkie found his body aching with a worrying desire.

 

It began with simple, innocent touches. A pat on the head here, a stroke down the back there, and on days when the heat was blazing and the work was unbearably dull, Credence would find himself laying his head on the magizoologist’s bare chest as they basked lazily in the sunlight. Newt was frequent and generous with his affection, his soft strokes almost absent-minded as he slinked about the boat and hunched over his manuscripts. Over time, Credence found himself yearning for those fingers to brush across his skin, to hear Newt’s steady heartbeat dancing in his ear, and to be as close to the other man as his fear and embarrassment would allow.

 

Five long months of innocence, of a calm and normal routine, and then it all changed in a single night.

 

The day had started out like any other, the skies a vibrant blue and speckled with drifting clouds. Newt had declared the first draft of his manuscript finished early that morning, and so they were both in reasonably good spirits as they went about their morning. Newt checked every line and knob with precision as the boat swayed against the pull of the anchor, and Credence dove happily beneath the ocean’s surface to hunt for fish to consume. Newt preferred to chew on strips of bacon he had procured from the depths of his suitcase with a crooked, unabashed smile lighting up his entire face.

 

Credence leapt from the water and settled himself at his favorite spot at the bow of the boat, flopping into a boneless spread with his full belly facing the sun. Newt chuckled at his shameless sloth, pulling the anchor up and unfurling the sails to their full extent.

 

“Don’t get too comfortable, now! I’m going to have to stop at the next harbor we see. Can’t exactly send my manuscript to England from the middle of nowhere,” Newt said. Credence rolled onto his side from where he had been basking, the magizoologist’s good cheer sending a familiar warmth fluttering in his chest and up to his cheeks. He silently thanked the Gods that blushing was impossible in his seal form. “Hopefully, my publisher will be pleased with it…and everyone else, of course.”

 

Credence released a small chirp of support, wiggling himself across the small deck surrounding the cabin and making his way to where Newt sat in the cockpit. Just as he had hoped, a freckled hand reached down almost instantly and caressed his damp head as the boat cut through the waves. For a while, neither of them moved from their posts, the playful salty air sending Newt’s copper curls fluttering gracefully in the breeze.

 

“I’ll definitely have to stop in New York at some point, once the book is printed. I promised Tina that I would deliver her a copy,” he murmured.

 

Credence snapped to full awareness, his gut twisting at the mention of the dark eyed nymph. Although, if he was truly honest with himself, it was not the name itself but rather the sweet, affectionate tone in which the magizoologist spoke it. He hadn’t forgotten, of course, that Newt had other companions from their stint on the MACUSA…but that didn’t make the reminder sting any less. 

 

Newt glanced down at him, his smile never faltering for a second.

 

“You remember Tina, right? The dark haired Goldstein sister?” he asked, and Credence could only nod silently in response. “She’ll be so happy to know you’re alive. She was just as worried about you as I was.”

 

A tiny spark of memory tickled the Selkie’s consciousness, the faded reflection of a kind woman walking passed the small room he had called his home and stumbling upon his daily cleansing. Tina had rushed at Mary Lou with the ferocity of a bloodthirsty mother shark, ripping the belt out of her hand and screaming in her face. It was the only time anyone on the MACUSA had defended him from her punishments, and the only instance he had ever seen Mary Lou genuinely afraid of another person. It was a shame that Captain Graves was more concerned with keeping his control over Credence rather than correcting any ill treatment he might receive, and poor Tina had suffered the consequences.

 

“I hope she’s doing alright. I never found out what happened after they arrived in New York. I hope the Admiral wasn’t too hard on her,” Newt murmured, his voice deepening in concern. Credence rested his head on the magizoologist’s knee, his eyes staring unseeingly out into the open waters around them.

 

‘ _He likes her_ ,’ a dark voice of warning whispered in his mind. ‘… _they would make a nice couple. She’s kind, she’s pretty…she can give him things you can’t_.’

 

Credence forced a whine back down his throat, the horrifying truth sinking in his mind like black oil through the waves. Selkies were often taken due to their beauty and magic, it was true, but there was a reason most of those captured were female. Various legends told of the perfect wife rising from the sea, unable to do anything that displeased their husbands so long as he held the power of the pelt captive.

 

But what did a male Selkie have to offer?

 

He could offer Newt his body, but he couldn’t be sure that the magizoologist was even interested in the male form. He certainly couldn’t offer marriage, not with the Human laws as they were. And no matter how powerful his magic, no matter how much he may have wanted to, he would never be able to bear any pups.

 

…but Tina could.

 

“Credence? Are you alright?” Newt’s voice asked softly, and Credence blinked back to reality with a startled sniffle. He glanced up, forcing back tears of humiliation and despair, to stare into concerned pools of green and gold. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. I promise, I’ll do my very best to keep you safe, alright?”

 

Credence buried his snout into the folds of Newt’s stomach, cowardly taking the easy escape he had been presented. The two of them lapsed into silence, the soft songs of the flying gulls lulling Credence into a weary slumber that extended long into the afternoon. Newt continued to stroke his head, using his free hand to steer the sailboat onwards and keep them afloat.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until night had fallen and Newt weighed anchor to sleep that Credence allowed himself to think on the issue again.

 

Soft snores echoed from the depths of the cabin as the Selkie stared up at the night sky, his throat tight with worry. Back when he had first been captured, it had unsettled him how empty the skies looked when the city lights drowned out the stars with smog and yellow electricity. But here, the clouds cleared away and the black heavens exploded with glistening diamonds reflecting in the calm waters below. It was breathtaking…and so incredibly lonely without Newt to share it with. 

 

For how long would Credence be allowed to hold onto this fragile paradise he had been granted, knowing that it would only end with his heart in pieces?

 

How many days, weeks, months would Newt stay with him, until he grew bored and tired of filling the silence with his own voice?

 

How much longer would Newt wait before dumping Credence back into the sea with a smile of farewell and a blushing Tina on his arm?

 

Credence curled himself tighter into a ball beneath the stars, his eyes burning as tears spilled down his cheeks and slid down his whiskers.

 

‘ _I don’t want him to leave. I don’t want to be alone again_ ,’ he pleaded to the darkness pitifully. ‘ _What am I going to do?!_ ’

 

‘ ** _Fight._** ’

 

He flinched back at the sudden disembodied sigh, the typically dormant magic under his flesh pulsing back to life. It slithered through his bones, churning the waters beneath the boat against his will and whispering across his mind. The sea sang a song that only he could hear, one of comfort and determination that sent shivers down his spine.

 

‘ ** _Fight for him. Don’t let him go so easily. You’re a Selkie— you can do it._** ’

 

…could he?

 

He _was_ a Selkie, and Selkies were beautiful by Human standards. Their beauty was the catalyst to their demise, the temptation that drove Human men and women to rebel against their own miserable lives and take that beauty for their own. It was both a blessing and a curse, and it was what had drove Percival Graves to approach him all those years ago.

 

Credence’s heart clenched in between his ribs as he propelled his body forward and wiggled his way to the edge of the boat. He peered down into the dark water below, barely able to make out his reflection in the faint light of the moon. His seal form was a clever disguise, not too altered from any other earless pinniped that the average Human would notice. But his other form had been so often mangled and twisted beyond repair by Mary Lou’s rigid standards that he barely remembered what it looked like Before.

 

Was he still beautiful? And even if he was, would Newt honestly care one way or the other?

 

The Selkie glanced up at his surroundings, taking in the gentle fog that had begun to settle across the horizon. He stretched his neck to its limits, peering into the shadows and waiting for any sign that he was being watched or hunted. When the world continued to turn uninterrupted and his surroundings remained silent, Credence took a deep breath and curled his body inward.

 

The magic beneath his pelt spread from his back up and around his torso, a warmth that created life from nothing and crafted limbs and a tall, lanky frame for him to inhabit. His pelt shifted and stretched, growing thin and loose as he used his new fingers to pull it back and off his head like a cloak. The cold, salty air stabbed into his pores as his pelt pooled around his hips and his hair fell in loose curls around his face.

 

There was no doubt that his return to the sea and a sufficient supply of fish had recovered his strength and altered his body for the better. His ribs were no longer visible against his skin, nor were his palms constantly bleeding from Mary Lou’s beatings. He clutched his seal skin to his chest and glanced back down into the water, running trembling fingers over his sharp cheekbones and up to his scalp. He was still pale, as he expected, but there was a healthy pink hue to his cheeks that hadn’t been present in many long years. His hair wasn’t as long as it had been before his capture, but it was noticeably thicker and tickled the back of his neck as it fell in gentle waves.

 

He certainly thought he looked better than before, more like himself when he wasn’t shackled to any pirates or religious zealots.

 

But did that make him beautiful?

 

‘ _Looks aren’t everything_ ,’ his common sense reminded him. ‘ _Captain Graves taught you that much_.’

 

But Newt wasn’t anything like Percival Graves. Newt was patient, accepting, and kinder than any Human had any right to be. He smiled when Credence broke through the ocean surface, and hadn’t shown any signs of wanting to change who or what Credence was. Newt’s hands handled him gently, his embraces firm enough to be supporting but loose enough for Credence to know that he could run away at any moment he chose.

 

And that was the difference that made Credence’s heart sing—Newt allowed Credence to run away, to escape whenever he wished. Newt granted him every freedom he could desire, where Graves saw him only as a prisoner to be exploited.

 

The Selkie took a deep breath and stood on shaking legs, tying his pelt in a loose knot around his hips to protect his modesty. He ran his fingers through his hair, his nerves tingling with sensation after so many months unused. There was little he could do to improve his appearance, but he hoped that his magical nature would grant him an advantage that would make up for his many other shortcomings. The bond they had been developing since they had met on that horrid ship was young and fragile, but the sea was right—he couldn’t stand by and wait for someone else to steal Newt away.

 

And if Newt rejected him, then the sea was only a short leap off the side.

 

Credence crept into the small cabin slowly, glancing around with his head ducked slightly in order to avoid any collisions with the roof. A simple kitchenette, complete with a stove, sink, and traveling kettle, sat to his left with wooden closets and other storage on his right. Beyond the cramped living space was an oddly shaped bed angling toward the bow, holding a snoring, curled up Newt beneath a mountain of blankets. 

 

His doubts intensified at the sight of his Human companion sleeping so contently, but beneath the wooden walls of the sailboat, the sea called out her support.

 

‘ ** _Go. If it is meant to be, you should not waste this chance._** ’

 

His body floated across the cabin as if in a trance, his cheeks growing warm as he swallowed his embarrassment and eased himself up onto the bed. Newt stayed firmly tangled in his nest of blankets, his hair spread in a haphazard halo on his thin pillow. The faint silver light from the open cabin door fell just short of the bed frame, casting the exposed portions of the magizoologist’s face into dark shadow.

 

‘ _I’ve never seen him sleep before_ ,’ Credence observed silently. ‘ _Usually he’s always moving_.’

 

The Selkie reached out and tentatively stroked the line of Newt’s jaw. At first, the magizoologist slept on with no sign that he felt the touch at all. But then there was a twitch, a sniff, a furrowing of his dark brows, and finally his eyes blinked open in a lazy squint. The eyes fell to the shivering Selkie hunched slightly over him, but Credence couldn’t tell whether there was any recognition there in the darkness of the cabin.

 

“…hngh…hello, Credence…” Newt grumbled, his eyes falling back closed with a weary sigh. Credence was both surprised and relieved that Newt had at least recognized him, but he had to fight back a wince at how nonchalantly his companion addressed his sudden appearance.

 

After a beat of silence filled with growing Selkie worry, Newt’s eyes snapped back open as his mind finally broke past the steel clutches of sleep. Their foreheads almost collided as Newt’s body shot up into a sitting position, his blankets falling from his shoulders as he stared in open revelation at Credence’s other form. For his part, the Selkie tried not to curl in on himself, focusing on the distant sounds of the waves brushing against the wooden hull in order to keep himself calm. Newt blinked once, twice, and then opened his mouth as if to speak—but barely a gust of air made it past his lips.

 

Credence swallowed his nervousness as best he could. He was a Selkie, just as the sea had said, and he could lure any Human to his side if he used the correct methods! He was just a little rusty, that was all! He could handle it!

 

“Uh…hello…uh…”

 

Oh, he could _not_ handle it.

 

“Credence?! Credence! Bloody hell, you look—wow—I mean—it’s so good to see you out and about,” Newt stuttered, his voice wavering around choked yawns and a brain only half awake. Credence lowered his chin and peered up at his companion through his long eyelashes, hoping to hide his bashful smile in the shadows. “What brought this on? Not that I’m complaining! Far from it!”

 

“Um. I—maybe this is—I just wondered if—” His cheeks began to burn under the strain of his mortification. It used to be so easy, talking to Newt about his creatures and the world beyond the confines of the MACUSA. He could only imagine how disappointed the British man must feel, thinking he lost his grasp on the basics of Human language in his five months as a seal. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Hey, now, what’s all this?” Newt slowly reached up, holding his palm next to Credence’s face and watching the Selkie’s expression for any signs of discomfort. Credence leaned into the touch almost instantly, rubbing his cheek into the magizoologist’s hand and allowing his eyes to fall closed with relief. “Are you alright?”

 

“…I am now,” he whispered.

 

And he really was. This was what he wanted—the easy affection, the warm comforts of a gentle soul keeping him safe and relaxed. For five long years he had dreamed only of freedom, but now any freedom without Newt would be empty and worthless.

 

Credence’s eyes slid open and fell onto Newt’s own wandering gaze, his cheeks growing even warmer when he realized that those gentle green eyes had focused on Credence’s lips. The Selkie raised his fingers to sweep the messy cascade of hair away from Newt’s forehead, their eyes meeting in the limited light provided by the faraway moon. Slowly, cautiously, Credence leaned up and forward, allowing all of the love in his heart to swell in his eyes as he pressed his mouth against Newt’s chapped lips.

 

It was barely a kiss at all, the slightest pressure of a hopeful invitation, but that was all that it took.

 

Newt relaxed into the kiss, opening his mouth to Credence’s tentative advances and winding his long arms under the Selkie’s shoulders. It was as if they were drowning, a deeply suppressed craving sated only to have an even deeper well of longing take its place. Credence kissed him deeper, harder, lost in the perfection of the moment, and they parted for breath after several long, fantastic minutes of bliss. Newt’s fingers wove themselves into the dark waves of the Selkie’s hair, his freckled face flushed and glistening with the beginnings of sweat.

 

“God, you are so lovely. I’d hoped—but I never thought —” Credence couldn’t help but lean forward and capture the British man’s lips again, his hand gliding across the wrinkling fabric of Newt’s shirt.

 

As Credence shifted into a more comfortable position, his hip grazed over the rising hardness between Newt’s legs through the thin blankets keeping them apart. They released a groan of desire in unison, the Selkie’s fumbling fingers reaching down to trace the lines of his Human’s need through the worn cotton of his pajamas.

 

“I want you,” Credence murmured, his voice deep and embarrassingly pleading. “Have me. Anything you want—you can have me.”

 

“Credence…” Newt gently turned them over, kicking the blankets back and away from their tangled bodies as Credence slid the shirt over Newt’s head. The magizoologist’s slight frame was decorated in scars and splashes of freckles, and Credence allowed himself to take a moment to run his tongue over the more obvious wounds on his chest. Newt kissed and nibbled his way down Credence’s own chest, skirting around his nipples and stopping just above his pelt.

 

“Credence?” Newt gasped, leaning his head back to gaze up at the Selkie’s questioning eyes. “Am I allowed to touch this? Or do you want to go hide it somewhere safe before we continue?”

 

After a beat of stunned silence, Credence threw himself up off the bed and wrapped his arms roughly around Newt’s shoulders. Newt made a confused noise, gently bring his hands up to rest carefully over the Selkie’s spine. Credence pushed down the tears that had sprung to his eyes, burying his face in Newt’s neck and shaking his head in wordless gratitude. He removed one arm to guide Newt’s hand down to the loose knot at his hip, and the magic sleeping within the pelt tingled as the magizoologist eased the knot open and away.

 

“I won’t keep it. You know that, don’t you?” Newt whispered, his breath warm across Credence’s cheek. “I would never take it away from you, never!”

 

“I know,” Credence sighed, and his body trembled when he realized that he wasn’t lying. Newt slipped the pelt from his hips and coaxed him back down onto the bed, laying the dark seal skin above their heads so that it would be within Credence’s reach at all times. Their lips found each other again as Newt blindly removed his own lower coverings and threw them into the surrounding darkness.

 

The British man continued his journey down Credence’s body, touching and kissing until Credence’s breaths came out in sharp, high-pitched bursts and his cock lay flushed and stiff against his smooth, flat stomach. He watched with wide eyes as Newt took him in hand, his rough, calloused fingertips a sharp, yet pleasurable contrast to his soft grip. After a few experimental slides up and down his shaft, Newt wasted little time in guiding the tip of Credence’s cock into his mouth.

 

The Selkie’s body jolted as an electric shock burst through him, his breath catching around what might have been the beginning of Newt’s name had he been able to articulate any actual words. His back eased up into a deep arch as Newt began to work his length with his tongue, teasing the head and working the base with his fingers. The warmth spread down his groin into the bones beneath his hips, his body shuddering with every stroke and suckle on his sensitive flesh. The hand not occupied with his pleasure eased up his bent leg and sent goosebumps dancing across his skin.

 

When his gasps grew shallow and even faster than before, Newt gently eased his mouth away with a small, departing kiss where a small bead of white, salty fluid had gathered at his tip.

 

“Alright?” he whispered, slowly creeping back up and smoothing his fingers through Credence’s hair. The Selkie groaned in response, twisting his hips up just enough for their erections to slide against one another and send bursts of pleasure through their lower bodies. “God, are—oh—Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

“Do you not want to?” Credence gasps worriedly. He had hoped Newt’s enthusiastic response was the sign of something deeper, something meaningful between them, but now he wondered whether the older man was only humoring him. Maybe he was doing this out of gratitude for Credence’s help all those months ago…or worse, out of pity.

 

“Of course I do, Credence,” Newt promised softly, his hands never stopping in their gentle caress across his scalp. “But I wanted to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

 

“I’m comfortable,” Credence said, pressing his back deeper into the mattress and exposing his neck with the slightest tilt to his chin. He’d meant it to sound alluring and seductive, but he doubted that he had succeeded if Newt’s deep chuckle was any indication. The magizoologist reach over near the foot of his bed, blindly searching for something Credence couldn’t see until he triumphantly raised a small, clear bottle up from the void.

 

“Alright, then. But if you want me to stop, just say the word,” Newt said, his face joyful yet undoubtedly sincere. Credence couldn’t help but smile back, reaching up to rest his arms onto Newt’s shoulders as he spread his legs as wide as they could comfortably go.

 

A small, beaten part of him was horrified at his shamelessness, but that quiet voice was drowned out by the feeling of perfection coursing through his every vein. He hadn’t been able to test his nature fully before Graves had stolen his pelt away, but tonight was anything but a simple test. This was his dreams come to fruition, his love made manifest in the only way his kind knew how.

 

Newt placed a hand on Credence’s hip after coating his fingers in the odorless oil, reaching down between his legs and stroking at the sensitive, puckered skin hiding there. He went cautiously at first, circling the ring of flesh once more before pushing in. Credence sighed in relief as the pressure made its way into his center, his body open and relaxed under his Human’s watchful gaze. Lazy, unhurried kisses were exchanged as one finger became two, then three, and finally Newt removed his scissoring appendages to replace them with something much more solid and warm.

 

Newt filled him slowly, stretching him open and spreading a divine warmth up his spine. Freckled arms held the trembling Human just out of contact, and Credence’s arms tightened around Newt’s shoulders as his hips twisted and writhed in an effort to bring him even deeper inside. Newt’s head dropped with a gasp between his shaking arms as his groin finally touched the back of Credence’s thighs, the taut muscles twitching with the effort of keeping them both still as they adjusted.

 

Their latent animal instincts took over, swayed by sensation as their bodies fell into a grinding rhythm born of trust and acceptance. Newt buried his face in the side of Credence’s neck, kissing and nuzzling as his hips began to snap faster and harder against Credence’s body. The Selkie tried to meet his lover’s thrusts in tandem, tightening his internal muscles and bringing him closer to the edge with every move. A lucky shift in position sent Credence into a violent spasm of ecstasy, and Newt instantly fell into a more focused rhythm that had them both practically screaming into each other’s shoulders.

 

After a few short minutes that seemed to stretch on for countless, blissful hours, Credence’s stomach tightened as his cock pulsed hot and wet between their bodies. He curled up with a sharp whine as his release burst out of him, coating their sweating chests with white ribbons of his seed. Newt crushed the Selkie against him with a deep, guttural groan, his hips jumping in a faltering tempo as Credence’s warmth squeezed out his own orgasm against his will.

 

The two men fell into a glistening, dripping tangle of limbs as their hearts hammered in their ears. Despite being uncomfortably stuck together with a puddle of release between their abdomens, Credence’s muddled brain refused to allow his body to move from beneath the blazing warmth that was Newt. He bit back a cry of protest when the magizoologist removed himself and coaxed them both onto their sides, his long arms curling around Credence’s scarred back and holding him close.

 

The Selkie smiled, raw and tender, utterly full of his Human’s seed, and so, so happy that even conjuring a massive storm would pale in comparison.

 

Even in his happiest dreams and fantasies, he never imagined how deeply his love would affect him. He had never realized that a person, Human or otherwise, could fill everything inside of him that was empty. After he had been captured and forced to internalize his loneliness, he started to believe that being alive was simply learning how to live with that emptiness.

 

How foolish and naive he had been.

 

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Newt murmured between gasps of breath. Credence flinched out of reflex, which the magizoologist seemed to ignore before continuing. “I knew you were handsome before…but that haircut was an atrocity! Now look at you! You’re bloody gorgeous.”

 

Credence hid his smile in Newt’s shoulder, nuzzling against his sweaty skin and sighing with unparalleled relief.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, and together they fell into a deep slumber aided by the sea’s soothing lullaby.

 


End file.
